Fruit of My Womb
by Rose Madder
Summary: When Ben is kidnapped by evil, Phoebe casts a spell to try and bring him back, with the most unexpected consequences. How far will a mother go for the sake of her child? Sequel to So Mote It Be. COMPLETE
1. Gone

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This fic is dedicated to Barb, who has been patiently beta reading it for the last two months, and thanks to whom the story has become so much better than it originally was. Thanks, Barb!

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Note #1: This story is part of a series, and will be better understood by those who've read the previous installments. The sequence of the stories is: (1) Redemption; (2) The Demon's Advocate; (3) So Mote It Be; (4) Fruit of My Womb. For those who haven't read the previous stories, here's the scenery: the Source is gone, Cole and Phoebe have left the Underworld for good, and their son is a one year old human baby. Piper is seven months pregnant, but it's Leo who's having all the side effects, like morning sickness, cravings and mood swings. For more details, read the previous stories.

Note #2: As I promised, in this story you'll find out who's the person from Cole's past Sarsour has been talking about. Also, there's a character in this story that has already died on the show, but I brought them to the story anyway, because when my series started they were still alive on the show.

Credits: I don't own the Charmed characters, which is totally unfair, considering I clearly care for them much more than the WB writers do. {Sigh}

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"I am **_so_** not skipping work!" said Phoebe, putting the bottle inside the baby bag and zipping it closed. "It's just that Ben was really excited today, and I only managed to tuck him in at two o'clock. I couldn't possibly wake him up only half an hour later, could I?"

She spun around, looking for her coat, and added:

"You know how cranky your nephew gets when he doesn't take his afternoon nap." -- she spotted the coat hanging on a chair's back, picked it and started to put it on -- "He's awake, I've been hearing him babbling through the baby monitor for the last five minutes, I'm just gonna go upstairs, pick him up and we'll be at the club before you can say '_you promised me you'd help me here_' again."

Phoebe put the baby bag on one shoulder, her own purse on the other and said, reaching out for the baby monitor:

"Well, I'm sure he wouldn't have been so excited if somebody's hubby hadn't been orbing..."

She stopped short as she heard a female voice coming from the baby monitor:

"Hey, you. Oh, what a cute little thing you are..."

"Phoebe?" Piper sounded worried with her sister's sudden silence.

"There's someone in my bedroom," said Phoebe, dropping the bags on the kitchen's table and rushing upstairs, still holding the cordless phone.

"Phoebe, wait!" said Piper, alarmed. "Let me get Paige and we'll..."

"Ben is there, Piper," said Phoebe, cutting her short.

"Oh God," Piper whispered, shocked. "I'm on my way home, sweetie." 

She hung up and called out:

"Leo!!!"

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Phoebe ran down the corridor, as silently as possible, feeling her heart pouding furiously inside her chest. She stopped at the bedroom's door, looking in shock and horror at the tall, blond woman standing next to Ben's crib, with her back turned to the door, talking softly to the baby in her arms.

"Aren't you adorable? I could eat you up with a spoon! And maybe I will..."

Phoebe gasped as the woman turned around to face her, grinning:

"Long time no see, Phoebe," she said, fondling Ben's hair.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Piper and Leo orbed in, they found Phoebe standing in the middle of her bedroom, staring at the empty crib, the cordless phone still clasped in her hand.

Piper ran to her sister and put her arm around her shoulders, but Phoebe didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Phoebe, what..."

"She took my baby," said Phoebe, in a weak voice. Then she passed out, collapsing into her sister's arms.


	2. Baby, Come Back

Leo knelt in front of Phoebe and gently touched her shoulder to get her attention. She was on the couch, curled up in Piper's arms, her eyes puffy and red from crying, with Ben's cap clasped in her hands.

"I've already talked to Paige," he said. "As soon as she arrives, I'll go get Cole and orb him here. And we're gonna find out where Ben is and bring him back, Phoebe, I promise."

"Can't you sense him, Leo?" Phoebe asked, in a trembling voice.

"He's not a witch, Phoebe," said Leo, sadly. "I'm sorry."

Leo had never felt so helpless in his entire life. He loved his one-year-old nephew with all his heart, and not knowing where he was and what was happening to him was almost driving him insane.

When they heard the chiming sound that announced Paige's arrival, Leo promptly stood up. Paige had volunteered to stop at the office of Cole's dentist on her way from work and orb him home with her, but Leo had declined her offer, wanting to be there for Cole when he received the news. Now, while Paige joined her sisters on the couch, putting her arms around them, Leo almost wished he had accepted her offer. Damn it, how do you tell a father that his baby son has been kidnapped by a demoness?

He took a deep breath and said to Piper:

"I'll be right back."

After Leo orbed out, the three sisters remained silent for a moment, searching for comfort in their closeness.

"It's getting cold," Phoebe whispered.

"What?" Piper asked, confused. "Sweetie, do you want us to get your jacket?"

"It's getting cold," Phoebe repeated, her eyes dulled by the pain. "Ben's wearing only his PJs, do you think he's cold, now?"

Piper looked at Paige over Phoebe's head, feeling her heart break, and Paige cleared her throat, trying to hide the tears in her voice.

"We'll bring him back before he has time to feel cold, Phoebe. And then," she added, bitterly, "we're gonna kick that bitch's ass so hard she's never gonna know what hit her."

Phoebe didn't answer; she just lowered her eyes to the yellow cap in her hands and gently caressed it. Just then, Leo orbed in holding a very shaken Cole by his arm. Phoebe straightened up and looked at her husband, who took a few faltering steps, sat heavily on the couch and took her in his arms. For a moment, they didn't say anything, and Piper and Paige walked towards Leo, giving the grieving parents some space.

"Did you get to see who did it, baby? Did you recognize him?" Cole finally asked, pulling away from her just enough to look her in the eyes.

"Julie," she said in a whisper, and he winced. It's happening. It's finally happening. His past was coming after him, and his son was paying for it.

"What did she say?" he asked, hoarsely. "What does she want?"

"She didn't say. She just took him from his crib, and... and she..." -- Phoebe choked up and buried her face in his chest, starting to sob again.

Cole held her tight, desperately wanting to reassure her, wishing he could say that everything was gonna be okay. But his mind was blank, his brain felt numb, and he just held her until Piper sat beside them on the couch, saying in a gentle yet firm voice:

"Sweetie, you have to get yourself together, for Ben's sake. You can't break down now. None of us can," she added, eyeing Cole.

"Right," said Cole. For a moment, he still looked groggy, but then his eyes focused again and he added, in a fairly steady voice: "We need to find out where she took him. I'll fill you in with everything I know about her, but you should also check the Book of Shadows."

"I'll get it," said Paige, and not wanting to waste any time she orbed to the attic.

Cole then kissed Phoebe's forehead and said:

"We're gonna find him and bring him back, baby. Even if we have to slay our way through the whole damn Underworld to get to him."

Wiping the tears from her face with a trembling hand, and swallowing the ones that threatened to keep coming, Phoebe took a deep breath and said:

"Leo, Ben may not be a witch, but he's of my blood: do you think I can summon him with a spell?"

"I don't know," said Leo, as gently as possible, "I'd expect Julie to take him to a place where white magic can't reach them. But, by all means, give it a try."

Phoebe immediately stood up to get the things necessary to do the summoning: the fact that she was actually doing something to try and bring her baby back was enough to shake away the cold despair that had started to engulf her.

In the meantime, Paige orbed back, carrying the Book of Shadows. As she sat on the couch and put the book on the coffee table, Piper sat beside her, saying:

"Sweetie, we're trying a spell to bring Ben back. I know the spell, so while I find it in the Book why don't you and Leo start to collect the information Cole has about Julie?"

"Sure," said Paige, standing up and joining Cole and Leo. While Cole told Leo and her all that he had learned about Julie during the few months she had worked as his assistant, Piper quickly found the spell, and Phoebe came back from the kitchen with a bowl containing a sprig of cypress, some rosemary and yarrow root. She sat on the couch, put the bowl beside the Book of Shadows and lifted the athame to cut her finger. The moment she touched the tip of her finger with the athame, though, Paige suddenly said:

"Wait." As the others looked inquisitively at her, she said, pointing at Cole: "Don't you think the spell would be stronger if the two of you cast it together?"

"I can't cast a spell," said Cole. Then, looking at Leo: "Can I?"

"As I said," says Leo, "I wouldn't put my hopes on this spell if I were you. But if it has any chance of working, it'll be increased if you add your blood to the mixture."

Cole needed no further persuasion to sit by Phoebe's side and hold out his hand over the bowl. Phoebe made a small cut on his finger before proceeding to hers. Together they said the words of the spell, as their blood dripped from their wounds into the bowl:

__

"Blood to blood, I summon thee.  
Blood to blood, come back to me."

Their words rose and flew across the air as the two blood trails slowly ran down the walls of the bowl and met at the bottom.

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"So," said the red-haired demoness, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking at her interlocutor's back, "you're not coming?"

"I thought I had made it clear the first two times I said it," came the cold answer, "but since you seem to be having some trouble understanding it, I'm gonna say it once again: drop it, I'm not interested."

"The grimlocks..."

"I don't give a damn about the grimlocks," said the other demoness, keeping her eyes on the mirror as she braided her beautiful dark hair. On a face of perfect features, the emotionless black eyes seemed to care only for the french braid she was doing.

"You know, it's been a long time since you last took part in a killing," said the red-haired one, changing her approach, "people are starting to talk."

"People always talk." -- the dark eyes glinted briefly with a steely fire as the nimble fingers continued to snake through the silky dark strands, her back still turned to the redhead.

"They're saying," pursued the redhead, unaware of the growing danger, "that you're not the same anymore. That you've softened since..."

The words died in her mouth as a slim yet awfully strong hand closed around her throat. Her eyes opened wide as she found herself pinned against the stone wall, her interlocutor's face suddenly a few inches from hers.

"Maybe I should shut them up by hanging a demoness' head on my door," she hissed.

The red-haired demoness uttered a few strangled sounds, struggling in vain with the white hand that didn't show any signs of releasing its grip on her throat. Then, just as the world started to fade away, her attacker suddenly shuddered and straightened up, narrowing her dark eyes.

"Leave," she grunted, letting go of her victim, "I don't have time to deal with you now."

As the terrified creature left as fast as her shaking legs allowed her, the demoness muttered, mostly to herself:

"I have some unfinished business to attend to."


	3. Blood to Blood

Note: You're right, Maggie, Phoebe had already killed Julie on the show, but when I started to sketch this story I hadn't watched that episode yet (remember, here in Brazil we're always a couple of months behind you), and I just couldn't let Julie remain unpunished.

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"You're NOT turning yourself in!" said Phoebe, clutching Cole's arm.

"Phoebe, it's me she wants, not Ben," he said, oblivious to the pain as her fingernails dug into his flesh. "If I..."

"If you put yourself in Julie's hands, she's gonna kill you both!" she yelled, on the verge of tears.

"Cole, this is not the answer..." Leo started, but he trailed off when Cole spun around and glared at him.

"Then, what's the answer, Leo? Tell me, 'cause I'll be glad to hear it! There's nothing in the Book of Shadows, the Elders can't help -- as usual -- and the summoning spell was useless. Do you have anything else up your sleeve?"

"I..." Leo tried again as Cole paused, breathing heavily.

"Wouldn't you turn yourself in if it had been Melinda?" Cole snapped.

Leo took a short intake of breath. The idea of his daughter going through this was almost physically painful. He put his hand on Cole's arm and said:

"I would. And I would turn myself in for Ben, too, if I thought it'd do him any good. But stop and think, Cole," he proceeded, gently pushing the other man back to the couch, while Phoebe sat by his side, clinging to him, "if it's vengeance Julie wants, she won't release Ben just because you turn yourself in. In fact, she'll be most likely to hurt him if she has you there to witness it." -- Cole winced and opened his mouth again, but this time Leo held up his hand -- "If you come up with a plan -- any plan -- that requires your presence in the Underworld, I'll orb down there with you. But I am **_not _**going to take you to Julie for nothing. That won't do Ben any good and will only hurt us all even more."

Piper silently sat by her husband's side on the coffee table, and Paige sat on the couch, by Phoebe's side. As Cole closed his eyes and silently pulled Phoebe towards him again, Piper and Paige exchanged a distressed look. Cole seemed defeated in a way they had never seen before, not even when he had brought Phoebe back from the Underworld, begging Leo to heal her. On top of everything, they knew that at least one thing he had said was true: they didn't have anything else up their sleeves, and they weren't any closer to rescuing Ben from Julie's clutches than they had been one hour before.

"You've got some nerve."

The five of them turned towards the voice that had lowered the temperature in the room by two degrees. A beautiful woman was standing there, her long dark hair up in a french braid, and her black eyes staring intensely at Cole. She was wearing charcoal-gray slacks with a sleeveless blouse to match, and had a blue Cashmere shawl draped over her creamy white shoulders.

While Piper tried to freeze her with no visible results, Phoebe looked at Cole with the corner of her eye: he was staring back at the newcomer in dread and astonishment, his eyes apparently locked on hers. Only when Phoebe started to form a fireball in her hand did he react, quickly grabbing her wrist and saying between clenched teeth:

"Don't." Phoebe fully turned to him, bewildered, and he added, never taking his eyes of the newcomer: "She'd kill you before you had time to throw it."

Then he cleared his throat, steadying his voice the best he could before asking:

"Mother, why are you here?"

The demoness that once had answered by the name of Elizabeth Turner narrowed her eyes and said coldly:

"Don't play innocent with me: you know damn well it never worked."

Cole's mind was working frantically, trying to understand what she was talking about. He shifted position and his knee brushed the bowl that he and Phoebe had used to try and summon Ben. When it sank in what they had done, his eyes opened wide and, swallowing hard, he said:

"You responded to the summoning."

"Only because I wanted to know what the hell you were thinking when you did such a stupid thing," she said, stone faced. "And I suggest you tell your story very slowly, 'cause those will be your very last words."

Cole had the sinking feeling that she meant it: even if she had never threatened his life before, she also had never made an empty threat, and he had the scars to prove it. Considering he had nothing to lose, and hoping that if everything else failed she'd at least spare the others after she was done with him, he took the only possible way:

"My son has been kidnapped and taken to the Underworld."

She didn't even flinch, still staring coldly at him, and he proceeded, starting to feel the knot forming in his throat again:

"We've tried every possible way to bring him back, in vain." As she still didn't react, he pursued, feeling drops of cold sweat forming on his forehead: "He's just one year old."

Deep down, Cole knew that his approach was lame, that this wasn't the way to get anything from the demoness standing before him. But he was struggling against panic, feeling more and more desperate at each minute his baby spent God knew where, in the hands of a rancorous demoness. The fact that the one he was pleading with wasn't known by her merciful dispositions didn't do much to reassure him. For more than a century, he had loved her and feared her with the same intensity. She had raised him, fed him, healed him, taught him how to survive in the Underworld. He owned her his life in almost every possible way, but he also had known hell at the times when her wrath had fallen upon him. What's more, this was the first time he was before her since he had switched sides and started doing good; he had no idea of how she saw him now that he didn't have his demon self, and didn't do evil any more.

Still getting no response from her, Cole took another deep breath and tried again:

"I need help."

"I'm starting to believe your brains were vanquished along with your powers," said his mother, and Cole's heart sank as he saw the fire storm blazing in her eyes.

"Mother, please, I..." -- his voice faltered, but he forced himself to proceed -- "I don't have anywhere else left to turn."

She watched him with an unreadable expression for a painfully long moment, then asked:

"Who did it?"

"Her name is Julie," Cole quickly said. His mother raised an impatient eyebrow and he added: "Tall, blonde, fast shimmerer, can throw power balls."

"The one who used to work for you?" she asked, frowning.

"Uh, yes," he said, surprised that she knew that.

She nodded silently, then asked:

"What's the boy's name?"

"Benjamin," Cole said, unconsciously increasing the painful grip he had on Phoebe's wrist, as he wondered if his mother had any intentions of helping him, or if she was just toying with him before killing him. He thought he had seen his mother flinch ever so slightly as she heard the name Ben shared with his grandfather. But it lasted no more than a split second, and after it was gone he wasn't so sure any more.

"Do you have a picture of him?" she asked, and Phoebe quickly reached out for a frame that was resting on the side table and handed it to Cole.

He tensely approached his mother and showed her the picture. It had been taken recently, and Ben was wearing the same yellow cap that Phoebe still held in her hands, laughing heartily of something happening behind the photographer's back. Cole's mother took the frame from his hand and watched the picture for a moment. When she handed it back to him without a word, Cole asked, puzzled:

"Won't you take it with you?"

"He won't be hard to recognize," she retorted, cryptically. Before he could say anything else, she added: "Wait for me here," and shimmered out.


	4. Somebody's Child

After his mother shimmered out, for a few more seconds Cole just stood there, feeling torn apart by conflicted feelings. Part of him clung to the fact that his mother was more powerful than he had ever been, and definitely more powerful than Julie; and so he believed that for the first time since Ben had been kidnapped the boy actually stood a chance. Nevertheless, another voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him that he had just sent one of the most ruthless demons he had ever met after his baby son. What unsettled him the most, though, was the third voice, the little boy that felt utterly relieved and trusted unconditionally that now everything was gonna be alright. Because she was in charge now, and she would make things right again. She was the one that had knelt on the cold stone floor before him, cupped his face between her hands and looked him in the eyes, promising him that none of the monsters that hid in those scary, shady corridors would ever -- ever! -- catch him. She had scooped him up and carried him in her arms as she walked through those long, dark corridors in that first night when they had both stood before the Source and she somehow convinced their Master to accept them both back in the Underworld. He didn't know what she was talking about then, and when he was old enough to understand it was too late to try and remember, but he remembered that he had known beyond doubt that everything would be just fine as long as she kept him nested in her arms. Even when the Source demanded that she approach so that he could see the child she was holding tight in her arms, he hadn't winced. He had even raised the head that was hidden in his mother's neck and sheepishly glanced at the tribal tattoos that covered the demon's face with childish curiosity. His mother had kept the monsters away then, and she would keep them away today, too. 'Cause that was what she did.

This course of thoughts was too disturbing, though, and Cole shuddered, unwilling to dig deeper into it; he turned around and went join Phoebe on the couch again. He could feel the stares of the others, and honestly he couldn't blame them for being stunned: even under normal circumstances, his mother had never been one to make little or no impression on anyone, human or demon.

When he sat by Phoebe's side, she immediately threw her arms around him and rested her head on his chest again. Without a word, he hugged her back, letting her warmth and her tender touch help slow down his heartbeat, until she asked, without raising her head from his chest:

"Do you think she'll help?"

Cole took a deep breath before answering:

"I don't know, baby." -- he made a pause to think, gently fondling her hair -- "She has always been hard to read. She never failed me before, but I was one of her own then. I don't know what she thinks I am now."

"You're human," Phoebe said, raising her head and looking straight in his eyes, "and you're good."

Cole smiled and touched her face affectionately, glad that she'd seen through him again and understood the insecurity that started to creep inside him when he was reminded of his dark ancestry.

"What I don't understand," said Paige, "is why the spell summoned **_her_**: it was supposed to summon your blood, and the power stripping potion Emma threw on you vanquished this part of you. Didn't it?"

"I don't know," said Cole. "You see, she gave birth to my human self as much as to my demon self. In fact, as far as I remember, Belthazor never showed up until I was around six."

"Don't take me wrong," said Paige, "but does that mean you're still a demon, only without powers?"

"No," said Cole and Phoebe at the same time, and Paige raised her hands defensively.

"Look," Leo said in a conciliatory tone, "I may be wrong, but I think that's like if I clipped my wings after Melinda here" -- he touched Piper's abdomen -- "was born. She'd still be half-Whitelighter, even if I wasn't a Whitelighter anymore, but that wouldn't make her any less of my daughter."

"That makes sense," said Piper, pensively, covering the hand that rested on her belly with her own. "Cole isn't a clone of his father, which means there must still be something of his mother in him."

"The point is," said Phoebe, bringing the conversation back to the topic that right then was the only one that mattered for her, "is it enough to get her to help?"

"I wish I could be sure, baby," Cole sighed. "By switching sides I let her down big time, and it's not like my mother to forgive a betrayal."

"What exactly is the nature of your relationship with her, Cole?" Piper asked, intrigued. "I mean, if you don't mind talking about this."

"We..." Cole started, but soon he stopped, frowning. How could he possibly explain to them something that he didn't quite understand himself? For more than a century, he and his mother had shared a bond that he knew other demon mothers and sons didn't have. They had been partners and allies, more loyal to each other than to any other creature: even the blood oath he had taken when he joined the Brotherhood of the Thorn didn't overpower it. As a grown up, he had his own quarters and his own assignments, and sometimes several months passed without them seeing each other. But he always ended up coming back to her, always found a way to let her know how he was doing. That was, of course, until he met Phoebe and his life turned upside down.

"I don't know," Cole started again, realizing with some impatience that it was the third time he said that in the few minutes since his mother had left. "She's not like any other demon mother... but she's not like a human mother, either. She's..." -- Cole shook his head, frustrated. How could he make them understand? -- "As a toddler, I wouldn't have lasted one hour in the Underworld if it wasn't for her. She took care of me for much longer than she'd have to take care of a demon child: they develop much faster than human children do. And she took charge of my training herself, which is something demon parents just don't do: there are demons whose job is to train the youngsters."

Cole rubbed his eyes, as memories he had hoped were buried forever came back to him. For a moment, Phoebe almost forgot how worried she was about Ben, as she saw his face crumple in distress, and she cuddled with him, attempting to reassure him.

"To be coached by her was a living hell," he sighed, "but in the hands of any other demon, I'd have been as good as dead. And eventually, as I got the the grip of things, it became less of a torture; as a teenager, I actually looked forward to those training sessions."

"You were three when she took you to the Underworld, right?" Phoebe said, gently massaging his forearm and shoulder. "Did she make you fight at such tender age?"

"No," said Cole. "I think I was five; I remember it was a couple of months before I met Sarsour."

Seeing the look on their faces, he added, almost defensively:

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds. I mean, it was but... I had to learn how to control my powers if I was to survive in the Underworld."

Cole sighed heavily, exasperated by his own inability to express himself. He didn't want the others to think that he thought it was no big deal. Still, somehow he couldn't stand the idea of them seeing his mother as nothing but a heartless monster. He closed his eyes as an old memory came to him.

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__

He and Sarsour burst into his mother's chamber, shrieking in terror and silently praying to whatever dark deity that might be listening that she was in there. He was seven at the time, and Sarsour was nine, and as usual they had been snooping around in places where they weren't supposed to be... except that this time they had been caught.

"What the..." she started to say, as the two kids jolted their way across the room and circled her, making sure she stood between them and the door.

Then an enraged alchemist walked in, with murder in his eyes. He stopped short as he saw the demoness staring coldly at him, and asked, pointing at the two kids hiding behind her:

"Are those two yours?"

Cole didn't need to look at Sarsour to know that his friend had recoiled further as he heard the alchemist's question, but to his relief his mother ignored the question and said sharply:

"I don't remember having invited you over."

The alchemist seemed to hesitate briefly, but his anger took the best of him:

"Those little brats have sneaked into my laboratory; I caught them in the act of snooping in my poison's locker."

"Belthazor, is that true?" his mother asked, while keeping her eyes at the alchemist.

"Yes, mother," he said. Scared as he might be of the consequences, he knew better than to lie to her.

"Have they damaged anything?" she asked the alchemist.

"No, but they could've..."

"But they haven't," she said, cutting him short. "And they won't, because they won't enter your laboratory ever again."

"But I..."

"I'll make sure they know it's a bad idea," she said, in a voice that made Cole and Sarsour exchange a nervous look.

The alchemist seemed to be about to say something else, then he thought again and turned around to leave.

"Alchemist?" Cole's mother called, and the alchemist stopped short and looked back at her. "Make sure you don't mess with my breed again. Otherwise you'll lose more than a few bottles of poison."

"Just make sure they stay out of my quarters and we'll have a deal," the alchemist grunted, before leaving the room a little too fast for one who intended to play it cool.

As soon as the alchemist was out of the room, Cole's mother turned to the two kids and, without a word, she slapped each one hard in the face.

"You don't break into other people's quarters," she hissed, "not unless you're ready to kill them if you're caught. And the two of you together don't have the power to kill a stinking gnome, much less an alchemist."

Straightening up, she pointed at Cole and said:

"Your training sessions will start one hour earlier for two weeks, starting today. As for you," -- she pointed at Sarsour, and this one winced -- "get out of my sight: you're not allowed to come back here until the day after tomorrow."

Appalling as an extra hour of ducking from his mother's energy balls and desperately trying to fire some of his own might be, Cole would gladly endure his punishment for three weeks instead of two in exchange for the suspension of Sarsour's temporary exile. Not only he would miss his only friend a lot, but also he knew that the half-elf would probably go through hell in the hands of the other demon kids -- unlike Cole's mother, Sarsour's father didn't bother to interfere. Still, they both knew that pleading with her would most likely only grant them an extension of their penalty. So, Sarsour turned to him and said with a weak smile: "See you in two days," before shimmering out. Then, as his mother told him to follow her and shimmered out, Cole nodded in silence and obliged: who knew, maybe that would be the day when he'd manage to fire an impressive energy ball -- so far he had only managed to produce a few lame tiny ones -- that'd make his mother happy, maybe happy enough to dismiss him earlier.

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Cole bit his lower lip, pensively. Should he tell this story to the others? Or should he tell them that as a grown up he had been seriously wounded in combat a couple of times, and had barely made it to her quarters, where he'd have most certainly died if she hadn't taken him in and nursed him until he was fully recovered? Would it make a difference if they knew she had cleaned his wounds, provided the liniments that alleviated his pain and the bitter tasting beverages that lowered his fever, never leaving the side of his bed? That even as he moaned and floundered deliriously, he somehow knew she was there all the time?

Piper's voice brought Cole back to the present with a start:

"I'll fix us something to eat," she was saying.

"Thanks, Piper," he said, "but don't count me in: I'm not hungry at all."

"Neither am I," she said as she stood up, "but we can't afford being weak. I'm not gonna cook dinner, but everyone is gonna have at least a piece of fruit and a glass of milk. If the need to fight arises, we gotta be prepared."

Piper started to walk to the kitchen, then stopped halfway from the doorway, turned around and said:

"Cole, not that I'm looking forward to this, but if for any reason you're not around when your mother comes back, how should we call her?"

"Erzsebet," Cole said.

Piper repeated the name to herself, then nodded and left the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ben giggled and tried to grab the athame that brushed his belly ever so slightly, tickling him. He was lying on his back, on top of a stone table, and his pajamas were open, exposing his tummy.

"You like the athame, don't you?" said Julie, softly, while retracting her hand and keeping the athame out of the toddler's reach. "And I'll bet your parents never let you play with sharp objects, you poor thing. Don't worry: soon we're gonna play a lot of interesting games with this one."

"Hi," Ben said, using one of the few words that formed his vocabulary and reaching out for the athame again. He was deeply surprised when Julie not only didn't give it to him, but she also didn't smile or kiss him. The baby frowned, intrigued: that had never failed before. Julie didn't pay any attention to him as she felt Erzsebet shimmering in a few steps behind her. She turned around to face the newcomer, saying reproachfully:

"Well, it was about time you showed up!"


	5. Thicker Than Water

Note #1: I'm glad to see that most of you seem to be as interested on Cole's family issues as I am.

Note #2: "Roll the Dice, Run for Your Life" readers, don't worry: I haven't dropped that story. I'll be updating later tonight.

Note #3: Yes, Chloe, most of the stories on my website were written by me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Well, it's about time you showed up! I've been waiting here for..." -- Julie's voice trailed off when she realized that the newcomer wasn't who she had expected.

"I don't know who you are," she said coldly, frowning at Erzsebet, "but you're clearly at the wrong cave; this is a private party."

"If you don't know who I am," Erzsebet said, "you obviously haven't done your homework properly."

Without further warning, she fired an energy ball at Julie, making sure it wasn't strong enough to kill her. Then she carelessly walked past the knocked out demoness, heading towards the table on which Ben had already rolled onto his stomach, and was now crawling his way towards the edge.

"Leaving a one-year-old all by himself and expecting him to be still for more than five seconds," she sneered, stopping the child just as he leaned his head over the edge of the table, "Newbies..."

Ben raised his head towards the lady who held him still and smiled brightly at her.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," Erzsebet said, after a brief hesitation. She took Ben in her arms and gave him a somewhat amused look. Bowing her head, she could smell the soft fragrance of lavender in his hair, and the boy snuggled contently in her arms, glad to see that the "hi" trick hadn't lost its charms, after all: it had gotten him rid off that cold stone table, hadn't it? Then Erzsebet shuddered, snapping away from the long lost memories that the warmth of the little body nestled in her arms threatened to bring back, and circled the table, putting it between them and Julie's inert body, while saying:

"Now, what should I do with you?"

She kneeled down and sat Ben on the ground, with his back leaning against one of the table's thick legs.

"Now," she said, "you wait here while I have a little chit chat with your friend over there."

"No!" Ben protested, indignantly, trying to free himself as she tied her shawl around him and the table leg, thus making sure he'd have his back turned to Julie.

"Yes," Erzsebet said sternly. "I have some pretty messy business to take care of, and you're not supposed to see this kind of stuff. At least, not until you're older." she finished, making sure it wasn't too tight, but tight enough to prevent him from turning around.

Ben pouted, clearly unsatisfied with this arrangement, and she said, while already standing up:

"Don't even bother giving me that face. It didn't work for your father when he was your age, and it won't work for you, either."

She left the boy struggling vainly with the ties that imprisoned him, and walked quickly towards Julie. Grabbing her by her hair, she turned the other demoness' face towards hers, and Julie moaned and struggled against her grip.

"Ready to talk?" Erzsebet asked.

Julie considered the idea of shimmering out, but dismissed it almost immediately. The bitch holding her hair wouldn't be looking so confident if she wasn't able to follow her to wherever she went. She held her composure the best she could considering her whole body still felt numb from the energy ball and she was lying on the floor, with her head held back by one hell of a strong hand.

"You got the wrong demon," she grunted. "I don't know you."

"No, you don't," said Erzsebet, with a sneer. "We obviously walk in different circles. If you knew me, you'd know better than messing with my offspring."

Julie looked at her, bewildered. She opened her mouth to tell Erzsebet that it was a mistake, when it suddenly sank in who the demoness staring angrily at her was, and her eyes opened as wide as possible. She had heard about this demoness before; but then again, who hadn't?

"D-do you want the kid?" she asked, stunned. "Why? He's just plain human!"

"That's for me to know," Erzsebet said, curtly.

Without waiting for an answer, she snapped Julie's neck with one fluid movement. Then she took the dead body in her arms and shoved it in a dent of the wall, making sure it wouldn't be immediately noticed by someone entering the room. Finally, she moved back to Ben, who was starting to get irritated, whining and tugging at the shawl.

"There, there," Erzsebet said, while she untied the shawl. "It wasn't all that bad, and we both know that."

She took the boy in her arms and stood up again, looking for a place to sit. 

"You're just cranky because you're probably hungry by now," she said, spotting a chair whose back leaned against the wall. She walked towards it and sat there with Ben in her arms, verifying that she could see the entire room from there while someone coming from the only door wouldn't immediately notice her.

"That should do it," she said to Ben, while making a quick yet carefull examination of his stomach and chest, looking for any scratches or bruises. "Anyway, this shouldn't take long. You see, she was expecting company -- apparently someone who should already be here by now. If I took you home now and came back here later, I could miss them, and I'm sure they'd be pretty disappointed if they didn't find anyone here. Now, we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?"

Feeling warm and comfortable, Ben had already calmed down by then, and babbled happily in response.

"I'm glad we agree on that," said Erzsebet, as she leaned back on the chair and prepared to wait for Julie's partner.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the manor, Piper, Leo, Phoebe, Cole and Paige finished their quick meal in silence. While they were eating, a couple of plans had come up, only to be quickly discarded because of their obvious flaws. Also, Phoebe had coaxed Cole into telling them more about his mother, not only because he seemed to need to talk, but also because somehow she felt that the key to their present dilemma laid deep in his past.

It wasn't hard for her to understand why Cole's mother inspired such conflicted feelings in him. Phoebe knew how difficult it was for her husband to put his life in the hands of others: that was one of the reasons why the loss of his powers had shaken him so badly. He felt helpless, having to rely on other people's magic to protect himself and the ones he loved. Trust definitely wasn't one of his strong points, and how could she blame him? Evil was anything but trusting: in the Underworld alliances were broken every day, schemes were plotted behind people's backs, long term allies became enemies in the blink of an eye. That was the world he lived in for almost his entire life, the only reality he had known for more than a century. He learned to rely only on his powers to keep himself alive, never trusting anyone completely.

She could only imagine how disconcerting it must be for him to know that all his might was useless against his mother, that he could never make himself use it against her. It was clear that even now Cole was having trouble decoding the feelings he had for his mother, but Phoebe could see that he knew -- as he had always known -- that he would never raise his hand against her. As for the feelings that the demoness harboured for the half human child she had given birth to -- that, considering the creature they had just seen had feelings **_at all _**-- Phoebe had no idea what their nature was, and she doubted Cole himself was very sure about them. After all, it couldn't be love: evil couldn't love. Could it? It was unheard of; but then again, so was a demoness getting pregnant with a half human baby. One way or the other, whatever her feelings were, Cole's mother had never expressed them in words: so, while Cole knew for sure that he'd never hurt her, he could only trust that she -- contrary to her nature -- would never threaten his life as well.

Phoebe watched as Cole put the empty glass on the tray that rested on the coffee table. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and stared dejectedly at it. The sight of him chewing his lower lip the same way Ben did when he was upset made Phoebe's heart wrench: they looked so much alike! Ben had been gone for almost two hours, and they still had no clue of where he was or how to bring him back. She leaned forward, too, and passed her arm through Cole's, cuddling with him as tight as she could and pressing her face against his shoulder. She was almost as surprised as the others when she heard her own voice saying:

"She'll help."

"What?" said Cole, giving her a puzzled look. "Why do you say that, baby?"

When Phoebe answered, looking him in the eyes, it was like the pieces of a puzzle coming together: it had been there all the time, it's just that until then she had been too hurt and scared to see it.

"Because you take after her," she said, gently. "You couldn't turn your back on Sarsour when he came asking for your help. You didn't turn your back on me when Prue was kidnapped by that warlock, even though I said I didn't want to see you ever again. It's just not like you."

As Cole stared at her, uncertain, she proceeded, softly:

"You don't see it, do you? How much the two of you are alike?"

"I'm not..."

"Baby," she said, fondling his face, "I have been trained by you. I know I wasn't there when your mother trained you but, from what you've told us, it seems to me that you have trained me the same way she trained you: pushing me almost to the edge, never giving me a break, making me repeat the same move over and over again until it was perfect."

Phoebe smiled sadly as she added:

"And you may not make Ben fight like your mother did to you, but sometimes you talk to your one-year-old son as if he was a grown up: you tell him the differences between the factions, and why a Seer is not the same thing as an Oracle, and how to tell a Darklighter from a Whitelighter, while he gives you that look that says _'Daddy, I have no idea what you're talking about, but you're a great guy, so I'll just sit here and nod every now and then'_."

"That's because I worry about the two of you, Phoebe!" Cole said. "I couldn't stand it if anything happened to..." -- he stopped short, frowning slightly.

Cole leaned back on the couch, dumbfounded, putting his arm around Phoebe's shoulders. Parenthood had been a mystery and a challenge for him from day one, and the last thing he would've expected was that his experiences with his mother would have influenced his own behavior as a father.

"I never intended to be like her," he muttered.

"I know. And I'm sure you're not," said Phoebe, gently. "Still, you seem to have learned something from her. Like taking responsibility for your family, and keeping your allies."

Cole nodded, almost absently, while his mind flew back in time once again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

__

He was fifteen, and he and his mother had shimmered to a remote realm to practice arm to arm combat, but he was distracted and clearly only doing it half heartedly. It didn't take long for his mother to notice it, but instead of saying something, she just increased the intensity of her assault; the more aggressive she was, though, the more grudging he became.

Under normal circumstances, the perception of her growing anger would've snapped him out of his lethargy, but on that day he just didn't care. The day before he had beaten another demon in one of the frequent quarrels teenage demons often engaged in. Those confrontations were very common in the Underworld, so common that the grown ups barely took notice of them: it was part of the natural selection that would identify the tougher demons. That time, though, as the defeated demon was walking away, Cole had heard him mutter something about half breeds tied to mommy's apron strings. He had almost followed the other kid and questioned him angrily about his words, but they had actually touched a nerve: it was true that other demons of his age -- even some that were younger -- had already left their mothers' quarters. The only time he had raised the subject, though, his mother cut him short with a look that ended the discussion right there and then. Until then, he had considered that as just another case of his mother wanting things to be done her way, but the demon's words had shed a new light on it.

Finally his mother caught him off guard, slamming him hard in the chin and making him stumble back until he fell heavily on the ground. He landed on a pointy rock that tore his shirt open and scraped his side deep enough to draw blood. The pain coming from both his offended chin and the wound on his side dizzied him briefly, and before he could stand up his mother had towered over him, glaring down at him.

"Are you trying to infuriate me?" she hissed. "Cause, if you are, you're doing a damn good job."

As he didn't answer right away, she pursued, all the more enraged:

"What's wrong with you? You've made mistakes today that you stopped making months ago!"

"This is useless," he muttered.

"What?!?"

The cold anger in her voice made him flinch, but he still said:

"This is useless. You're wasting both your time and mine here: I just don't have what it takes."

Even though he stubbornly avoided eye contact with her, he could hear her draw a sharp intake of breath.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked coldly.

He finally raised his eyes to her, and said rancorously:

"I'm only half a demon: you can't expect me to perform like a real demon... it's just unrealistic. You know that. That's why you won't let me move out: because I'm no match for the real world."

"Where did all this crap come from?" she asked sharply.

"What difference does it make? It's true, isn't it?"

"What have I told you about answering a question with another question?" she snapped between clenched teeth.

The omminous edge to her voice didn't go unnoticed by him, and he finally started to worry that he might have gone too far.

"People say that," he muttered, without much conviction.

His mother narrowed her eyes, which was usually a sign that her patience was dangerously close to the limit, and he added, shrugging:

"Vincent said that."

She stared at him in silence for a while, then suddenly said:

"All right, let's go back home."

As he looked at her in surprise, she added, coldly:

"There's no pointing in proceeding: clearly your mind isn't on this. As you said, it'd be a waste of time. Can you shimmer?"

He just nodded, baffled, and she shimmered out without another word. He did the same, feeling oddly disappointed that she hadn't insisted, hadn't even tried to convince him that he was wrong. It only reinforced his conviction that she, too, considered him inadequate, and it hurt him much more than he had thought it would: despite his bitter words, deep down he hoped his mother would say that there was nothing wrong with him. As he shimmered into their quarters, he was biting his lower lip, furious with himself for being such a wimp; then again, it was exactly the kind of thing one should expect from his weak human half.

When he didn't find his mother there, he looked around, confused. Then she shimmered in next to him and he understood what had delayed her: she was carrying a bowl full of snow in her hands. While pouring the snow into a bag she said curtly, without looking at him:

"Take off this shirt and sit on your bed."

He obliged in silence, and watched as she picked up some bandages and a flask containing a dark liquid that he knew from experience would make his wound sting like hell but would also close it almost immediately. She sat by his side on the bed and handed him the snow bag without a word, and he pressed it against his sore chin. Then she started to clean the wound, while he bit his lips and did his best not to wince.

"Where has Duayne been?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Uh?" he said, confused.

"Duayne," she repeated, still applying that damn potion to his wound. "I haven't seem him lately."

"Oh, he was killed in a confrontation with the vampires."

"And Karl? I haven't seen him, either."

"Vanquished."

"I see. What about what's-her-name, with red hair, green eyes, and a really bad attitude?"

"Gail," he said. "The Furies caught her last week."

He was relieved to see her finally put the flask aside and pick up some bandages.

While she bandaged his wound, she asked, matter-of-factly:

"Have you noticed that many of the kids that have grown up with you are gone? Don't you ever wonder why?"

"Uh, no," he said, confused.

"That's the problem with teenagers," she snorted. "Never think. Never learn from others' experiences."

He glanced at her, unsure, and she explained:

"Those kids are dead because they were stupid. They were teenagers, and that's just how teenagers are. About half the teenage demons never make it to be adults."

Cole glanced up at her, intrigued, and she proceeded, keeping her eyes on the bandage she was wrapping:

"It's a fact. Their powers are fully developed, but they can't control them properly yet. And as soon as they find themselves on their own, they start taking unnecessary risks, making all the wrong decisions."

She paused, giving the bandage a critical look and reached out for the scissors resting on the nightstand.

"All of them," she said while trimming the edge of the bandage. "Half breeds, thoroughbreds... Never changes."

As Cole finally started to understand where that was going, he gave his mother a hesitant look while she finished bandaging his wound, and asked sheepishly:

"Why do they leave their mothers' quarters, then?"

"I guess," she sighed, checking the bandage one last time, "that by the time they reach this age, both the young demons and their mothers are so sick of each other that they're willing to take the risk."

Cole lowered his eyes to the ruined shirt resting on his knees, and toyed with the fabric in silence, feeling slightly embarrassed, because that was exactly what he had in mind when he wanted to move out. He felt his mother's hands leaving his body, experiencing a feeling of longing as she broke the physical contact. In spite of his bravado, his childhood was still close enough for him to yearn for the reassurance that his mother's touch brought to him.

"Lie down on your stomach," she said then, cutting off his musings.

As he obligled, Cole was pleasantly surprised to feel her hands start massaging the sore muscles of his shoulders and back with tea tree oil.

"You need to learn how to fall," she said. "Otherwise, the fall can hurt you more than the blow that sent you to the ground."

"Uh-hu," he muttered, but he was still thinking about her previous words. "So," he said tentatively, "I will move out, too... eventually?"

"Sure," she said. "When you learn not to listen to what jackasses like Vincent say."

Cole rested his head on his crossed arms and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her hands nimbly dissolving some tension knots while she soothed the bruises caused by his fall.

"How is your chin?" she asked after some time.

"Better," he said. "But I think it'll be blue tomorrow. You have one hell of a punch." He hesitated, then asked sheepishly: "Mother, do you think someday I'll fight as well as you do?"

"Sure," she said, while her fingers grazed his hair ever so slightly. It lasted only a moment, and then her hand retracted quickly and continued the massage. "You're pretty good already; you just have to concentrate more."

They remained in silence for a while, until she withdrew her hands and declared herself done. Throwing a blanket on his back, she said:

"You lie there and get some rest; the oil may have taken away the pain, but your body still needs some time to heal." Standing up, she added: "I'll be with Rowena, in case you need me. She promised me a potion for today and, since your training ended early, I might as well go see if it's ready."

While she was leaving, he called to her again:

"Mother?"

"Yes?" she said, stopping at the doorway and turning around to face him.

"Why did you prevent me from moving out? Why didn't you just let me be on my own, like other mothers?"

His mother bit her lower lip briefly, then said, shrugging:

"I have already invested a lot of time and effort in your training: I'd hate to see you get yourself killed before I see the results of my work."

With that, she left, leaving him to muse about his mixed feelings. Later that day, Sarsour came looking for him, and he was perfectly happy to just sit there and talk.

When Cole told him what had happened, his friend just shrugged and said:

"Do you know what your problem is, Belthazor? You think too much. Why can't you just accept the fact that, unlike other demons, you have someone who actually cares whether you live or die? Gee, I moved out three years ago and I doubt my father has even noticed it."

"I'm sure he noticed how silent the place suddenly became without your snoring," Cole said with a smile.

"I do **not **snore!" _protested Sarsour, but he was smiling, too. He had slept over several times, specially when they were younger, when his father was out and he was scared to spend the night alone in their quarters, and the snoring thing had been the subject of many heated arguments between him and Cole._

"You **so**_ do snore!"_

"Do not!"

"Do to!"

They played this game a little more before moving to other subjects. By the time Cole's mother returned, they were playing blackjack, all thoughts of the previous incidents completely forgotten. She watched as Cole accused Sarsour of cheating -- which he was, of course: he always did, but with such skill that Cole never got to catch him in the act -- she then walked around the divider that separated her bed from his and went to get some rest before she left on her next assignment.

Cole didn't move out of his mother's quarters until he was nineteen. By then, not half of the demons that had grown up with him, but rather 70% of them, were already dead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Cole felt Phoebe tense up in his arms, he promptly straightened up, watching the spot where the air was flickering lightly as his mother shimmered in.

For a terrible moment, he was sure that she had failed; he could almost hear her saying that it had been too late. Then, as the air settled, he watched in awe as she stood there with Ben in her arms. The boy looked unharmed and not scared at all; quite on the contrary, he smiled at them and said cheerfully:

"Hi!"

Before anyone could stop her, Phoebe jumped to her feet and, throwing caution out the window, dashed towards her baby. She stopped short right in front of Erzsebet, and the two mothers stared at each other for a moment, the demoness measuring the witch with her eyes, while this one sustained her look without even flinching.


	6. Old Secrets, Eternal Truths

Oblivious to the tension building between his mother and his grandmother, Ben had just discovered the jeweled pins that kept Erzsebet's braid still and reached out for them. While he tugged with one of them, loosening a few hair strands, Erzsebet said flatly to Phoebe:

"I didn't find any bruises or scratches; plus, he is alert and responsive. If I were you I'd keep an eye on him for the next 24 hours or so, just in case, but I don't think there'll be any problems."

Then she gently took the pin from Ben's hands and handed the boy over to Phoebe without another word. She watched in silence as Phoebe took a step back, holding Ben as tight as possible and covering the toddler's face with kisses and tears.

Cole had stood up and was standing right behind Phoebe; he tried to speak, but choked, and just passed one arm around her shoulders and the other around their baby, holding them both in the same loving embrace. They stood there for a moment, until Ben started to feel uncomfortable: being hugged and kissed was a common part of his life, and one he quite enjoyed, but now mommy and daddy were starting to squeeze him a little too hard, and he whined and squirmed in their arms, trying to free himself.

"Sorry, buddy," said Cole, smiling through his tears and releasing his grip on him, "I guess you need some space to breath, huh?" he added, wiping the tears off his face and affectionately kissing his son.

Only them did he notice that Erzsebet's blue shawl was neatly wrapped around Ben's shoulders, covering his teddy bear PJs. As Cole gave his mother a puzzled look, she just shrugged and said, matter-of-factly:

"It was cold down there."

Cole reached out for the shawl, intending to hand it back to his mother, but Ben clenched his small fists around it and protested vehemently:

"No!"

Before Cole and Phoebe could insist with him, Erzsebet dismissed it with a wave of her hand. Seeing that he'd be allowed to keep his most recently acquired possession, Ben immediately turned his attention to more pressing matters. Spotting the baby bag resting on the floor next to the couch, his eyes lightened up and he eagerly reached out for it: he was hungry, and he knew that food usually came out of that bag.

As Phoebe sat on the couch and took the bottle out of the bag, Leo, Piper and Paige surrounded her, willing to welcome their nephew back. Cole watched them for a moment but, instead of joining them, he ran his hand across his face, wiping away the last tears, and then he turned to his mother, uncertain. He looked her in the eyes and she returned his stare without a word, until he broke the silence, saying simply:

"Thank you, mother."

"It was rather easy," she said, nonchalantly. "She clearly wasn't expecting resistance."

"Is she...?"

"Dead?" -- Erzsebet arched her eyebrows -- "But of course. You don't take prisoners in this business."

"Did you, uh, get the chance to find out what she was up to?"

"So, now I'm supposed to not only do your job and bring your son back but also give you a full report?" she snapped.

Seeing him wince slightly, she sighed heavily and said:

"Vengeance, that's what she was up to: an urobachian demon was working with her."

Cole drew a sharp intake of breath: urobachian demons were known for being able to keep their victms alive for long periods of time, albeit inflicting enormous pain. With the corner of his eye he was relieved to see that the name brought no reaction from Phoebe.

"Is he dead, too?" he asked his mother.

"Have I ever left a task half-done?" she asked, coldly.

"No," he said. "Of course not."

Erzsebet studied Cole's face as he absorbed the information she had just given him, looking for any traces of doubt. The fact that there was none showed her that he wasn't any more well-informed than Julie and her partner had been. Not that it actually surprised her: the Source had made sure that little piece of information didn't spread in the Underworld; as for the other side, she didn't think _they_ would tell him. "They probably still find this subject rather embarrassing," she thought, bitterly.

With a quick glance towards Ben, who was now snuggled in Phoebe's arms and sucking his bottle contentedly, she said:

"I should be going now."

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Cole asked, impulsively, surprising her as much as himself.

As he saw his mother hesitate, Cole was afraid she was going to just shimmer out without a word. Instead, she sighed and said:

"Since I'm already here..."

Cole casted a somewhat sheepish glance towards his family, saying:

"We'll, uh..." -- he pointed at the door to the solarium.

"Go," said Phoebe, softly.

Cole showed the way to his mother, and followed her to the solarium. Once they were there, he closed the door behind him and looked at her, not so sure of what to say, until she said, slightly impatient:

"Well, Belthazor?..."

Seeing him stiffen up, she said, sharply:

"Oh, I suppose I should call you Cole?"

"That's my name," he said, unconsciously reverting to the defiant tone that had put him in trouble so many times during his teenage years.

His mother's eyes sparkled dangerously.

"I suggest you watch your tone," she hissed. "Now that you don't have your demon self any more, this kind of behavior can earn you much worse than a few bruises."

Before he could retort, though, she abruptly changed the course of the conversation, saying:

"So, what do you want... Cole?" -- oddly enough, his human name sounded somewhat familiar in her voice, even if he couldn't remember her having ever used it.

Cole shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to buy time. The truth was, he didn't know what to say; he didn't have anything in mind when he asked her to stay: the words just... came out of his mouth.

"If you knew I was back in the Underworld, why didn't you come to see me?" he burst out.

"After all the work you had put yourself through in order to make me think you were dead?" she sneered, arching her eyebrows in mocking puzzlement.

"I..." -- he looked at her, baffled -- "But I had to. I couldn't... When Phoebe pretended to have vanquished me, there were bounty hunters after me, I had just killed the Triad and..."

"Not **_that _**time!" -- she cut him off, impatiently -- "I knew the witch hadn't vanquished you then! How obtuse do you think I am?"

"You mean you **_knew _**I wasn't dead?" he said, surprised.

"Oh, please! Don't you think I'd have known if you had been vanquished?"

"I don't know, I... I just assumed. You didn't tell anyone."

"Well, I didn't know what you were up to," she said, "but I knew you must have your reasons to fake your own death. Of course," she added, dryly, "I'd never have imagined that your reasons included a good witch, and a Charmed One to boot."

Cole slowly sat on one of the wicker chairs, all the more confused.

"Then, when?..." he asked.

"When your demon self was vanquished, when else?" she said, angrily. "You went off **_my_** radar, what was I supposed to think?"

Her face was slightly flushed, and her eyes sparkled fierily as she said that. She could have told him then of the agonizing pain that had woken her up in the middle of the night, screaming in physical pain as much as in grief. About how she hadn't been able to go back to sleep, lying there all night covered in cold sweat, trembling and feverish, knowing in her guts that something had been taken away from her, something that could never be replaced.

She could have told him all this, but she didn't. Instead, she regained her wits enough to say, nonchalantly:

"I didn't know you were alive until you and your witch showed up for the coronation."

"I, uh... I never..." Cole stammered, baffled. "I didn't mean to..."

"I didn't ask what your reasons were," his mother said, coldly. "I was just answering your question on why I didn't go looking for you."

Then she added, in a lower voice, so low that he wasn't sure whether she was talking to him or just thinking aloud:

"Anyway, to live among humans you must burn the bridges."

They remained in silence for a moment, until he asked, somewhat timidly:

"Will I... see you again?"

"I doubt," she said, flatly. Then, softening up ever so slightly: "And it'll be best if we don't. I'm a demon; you're... working with good witches. If we met again, we'd probably be trying to kill each other."

"I guess you're right," he said, without much conviction.

Erzsebet was standing right before him, and Cole understood that she was going to say goodbye. He kept his eyes down, though, as if avoiding eye contact he could postpone the inevitable.

After a brief hesitation, Erzsebet said, almost gently:

"Take care."

Then, she did something she hadn't done for more than a century: she leaned forward and kissed her baby.

It was very quick: her lips barely grazed his cheek and, before Cole could react, his mother had already shimmered out. He gasped and raised his head, whirling it from side to side, looking for her. When it became obvious that she was gone, he swallowed hard and whispered, hoarsely:

"Good bye, mom."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Is he alright?" Piper whispered, peering over Phoebe's shoulder.

"I guess," Phoebe said in the same tone, as she looked through the glass door. "But I don't see her anywhere: I think she's gone."

She sighed and turned to the others.

"I know she's a demoness, but she's his mother, too. And until today it never occurred to me that he could be missing her."

"Honey," said Paige, resting her hand on her shoulder, "as you've just said, she's a demoness: what were you supposed to do, invite her to stay for dinner?"

"I know," said Phoebe. "But he looks so..." -- she glanced at Cole again and waved her head sadly -- "I wish there was something I could do."

"Maybe you should just give him time," said Leo. "He'll talk when he's ready."

As they talked in whispers, Ben was squirming in his mother's arms and stretching his neck to look at Cole. It was obvious to him that there was something wrong with his father, and being kept apart from him was rather unsettling.

"Dada?" he called out, giving the door a puzzled look.

Phoebe's eyes grew big as she heard that, and so did the others'.

"When did he learn that?" Piper asked.

"Uh, I don't know," said Phoebe, smiling. "It's the first time I hear him say that..."

"Dada!" Ben called again, with some impatience.

"I think," said Leo, "that this applies as '_something you could do'_."

"You think so?" Phoebe asked, casting a hesitant look towards the door.

"I'm pretty sure it'll cheer him up," said Leo, smiling.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cole had his head down when Phoebe carefully pushed the door open. He didn't raise it until she was by his side, and it broke Phoebe's heart to see his red eyes.

"Hey," he said as she quietly pulled a chair and sat by his side.

"Hey," she said, softly. "There's something your son wants to say to you."

"Oh, is there?" he said, with a weak smile. He took Ben from her arms, flinching slightly as his fingers touched the shawl that no one had been able to take from the toddler yet.

Ben studied his father's face with a puzzled expression, tiny wrinkles forming on his brow as he frowned slightly. Everyone seemed to be acting strange that day. The blond lady that had taken him from his crib smiled most of the time and talked softly to him, but there was something about her that made her wrong. The one with dark hair, on the other hand, barely smiled, still she felt definitely right. The colorful blanket she had given to him was scented like her, and that's why he had wanted to keep it. It was a "right" scent, and a "right" blanket. In the cave, before she brought him back home, she had held him very, very tight, and he hadn't wanted her to go. And now daddy was smiling, but he was also sad. Ben had seem him worried some times, and he had seem him angry; but he had never seen him so sad, and nothing in his short life experience told him what to do on cases like that.

"Dada?" he said, tentatively.

Cole gasped, looking at the round little face turned up towards his.

"You said... You... He said...?" he stammered, turning to Phoebe with amazed eyes.

"I think so," she said, smiling and fondling his arm.

Seeing that he accomplished something there, Ben called again, with more conviction this time:

"Dada!"

He frowned, worried, as he saw the tears starting to form in daddy's eyes again. To make things all the more confusing, daddy was also smiling brightly, and Ben finally decided to give him the same treatment mommy reserved for the big tragedies of his little life, like dropping a favorite toy or having a really scary nightmare: he snuggled with him, cooing softly, and he even let daddy hug him really tight and didn't protest.

As Phoebe cuddled with them, Cole put his arm around her and pulled her towards him, closing his eyes and finding comfort in her closeness, and in their son's loving gibberish. And in the sweet perfume that impregnated the shawl on the toddler's shoulders.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Leo stood in front of the Elders, trying to conceal his impatience; under his composed exterior, though, he was boiling inside. They had summoned him a few minutes after Phoebe and Ben joined Cole in the solarium, and had once again flooded him with questions. By the look in Piper's eyes when he orbed out, Leo knew that she, too, would have lots of questions when he came back, and he had the unpleasant feeling that, like usual, he'd have no answers to give her. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep Piper from telling Phoebe about the Elders' mysterious behavior, and he couldn't blame her: more than once he, too, had been tempted to talk to Cole about it.

Now, he watched silently as the Elders talked among themselves. He tried to look as uninterested as possible, even though he was dying to know what was making them lose their proverbial serenity.

"We can't keep on postponing it indefinitely, you know," said one of the Elders, and although some of his peers nodded in approval, many of them looked rather reticent, and a few even made small sounds of impatience.

"Not indefinitely, of course," said another one, frowning his brow and slightly narrowing his eyes. "Just until the right moment. Just until it's safe."

"Maybe this right moment of yours has already come and we've missed it by being overcautious," said a third one, a black woman with beautiful, lively eyes.

"I don't think there's such a thing as _overcautious_," said the one she was talking to, dryly. "Not when there's so much at stake."

The black woman was about to retort when a bald man with rosy cheeks and a cherubic smile said, conciliatorily:

"Now, now, even if the time had come to deal with this, uh, situation -- and note that I'm not saying it actually has -- I'm sure we'd all agree that today wouldn't be the day for it."

"Allow me to differ, Walfrid," said a tall man with steely green eyes. "I think this little episode just comes to show that we must take the reins before other parties intervene, if you know what I mean."

"My dear Julius, should I remind you of what happened the last time we tried to -- as you put it -- take the reins?" said an old man with a long white beard, and Leo could barely suppress an exclamation of surprise at the hint of sarcasm held in the Elder's voice.

"Azhar, I don't..." started Julius, but Walfrid raised his hands, giving him and Azhar a reproachful look.

"Gentlemen, please!" he said. "We all have agreed a long time ago to let that sorrowful episode go!..."

"Anyway, what if it doesn't get any safer than that?" pursued the one who had spoken first, subconsciously tugging with his reddish beard.

"Then I say we forget the whole thing," said the one who had been accused of being overcautious. "Take it as sign that some things just aren't mean to be."

That caused a commotion among the Elders, as they all started to talk very excitedly, until the one with the reddish beard cleared his throat, subtly motioning his head towards Leo, and a heavy silence fell over the room, as if only then they had remembered that the Whitelighter was still there.

"Hum, Leo, you're dismissed now," said the black woman. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you don't...?" he started, but Julius cut him off.

"We'll let you know if we need you," he said, flatly.

Concealing his disappointment the best he could, Leo bowed respectfully and orbed out.

Once he was gone, Julius sighed heavily and said sourly to no one in particular:

"We should have vanquished that damned creature when we had the chance..."

****

The End  
(Next installment: The Coleville Horror)


End file.
